


The Detective's Daughter

by missdibley



Series: East Of The Sun, West Of The Moon [13]
Category: British Actor RPF, Magnus Martinsson - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Wallander (UK TV), Wallander - All Media Types
Genre: Chicago, Existing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Smut, au wallander, fort snuggums, intercourse, wallander au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 09:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: A lazy Sunday with Magnus Martinsson, his wife Halla, and their daughter Maggy.





	The Detective's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> This work has not been beta'd.

All was quiet in the little old house at the intersection of Shakespeare and Oakley, a tidy corner in a sleepy neighborhood on the north side of Chicago. A slight breeze blew in from the west only to peter out before reaching the shore of Lake Michigan in the east, but it was just enough to cool the master bedroom of that little house on what was going to be a warm Sunday.

While his wife Halla slept, Magnus Martinsson lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. The room was quiet, quieter than usual as they had the bed to themselves. Three year old Magnolia, who usually got up in the middle of the night to insinuate herself between her parents, was nowhere to be found. He turned to his left, curling his body around Halla.

 _“Käraste?”_ Magnus spoke into the nape of her neck before pressing his lips against her warm skin.

Halla squirmed a little, unintelligible words muttered from her lips. When he whispered her name, she whined.

“Baby,” she murmured. “S’hot… sleep… please…”

“But we’ve got the bed to ourselves,” said Magnus. “How long before _duva_ comes stomping in, demanding breakfast and plonking herself right on top of my head?”

“You love it when she does that.” Halla turned over, snuggling into her husband’s chest when he lay back to make room. She smiled when she felt his lips on top of her head. “Thank you.” She lifted her face, smiling again when he kissed her upon the mouth. “Good morning.”

“It could be a better morning if you’d just let me…” Magnus waggled his eyebrows at her.

“I’m sure it would, baby,” replied Halla

“I _know_ it would,” whispered Magnus.

“But somebody has to take a certain little somebody up to Andersonville, remember?”

Magnus groaned. “Shit, is that today?”

“Yes, the second Sunday of every month.” Halla yawned. “You, Maggy, and all the best behaved Swedish _barn_ of the Chicagoland area.”

“But we’re going to be in Sweden for _Midsommar_ next weekend,” insisted Magnus. “That’s as Swedish as it gets!” He chuckled when Halla rubbed a foot against his bare leg.

“Yes, but she’d hate to miss it.” Halla stifled a yawn. “Fröken Rosa reads to them, they play games, eat ginger cookies and crawl all over the Dala horse.” She began to trail kisses up his neck. “Come on, papa bear. You and baby bear have _just_ enough time to eat breakfast before Swedish time.”

Magnus sighed, gave Halla one more kiss, then got out of bed to get himself and Maggy ready.

* * *

“Swedish time” was what Halla called the monthly playgroup at the [ Swedish American Museum ](https://www.facebook.com/SwedishAmericanMuseum/) . The three and four year old children of Chicago’s Swedish American community gathered under the watchful eye of Fröken Rosa, a slim, rakish woman with silver hair and a chipped tooth. She spoke to them softly in Swedish, enunciating precisely and carefully while walking around the room and making sure they played nicely. Magnus and the other parents had a _fika_ , drinking coffee and eating _pepparkakor_ while they waited for the children.

Maggy was just a little bossy with the other children, Magnus noted with pride, as they romped around the room. While her pronunciation could be better, she repeated and remembered Swedish words quite well. When the hour was almost up, Fröken Rosa had the children sitting at her feet so she could quiz them. First as a group, then then one by one. they’d shout out the names of objects pictured in brightly colored cards she shuffled in her hands. Maggy was the last to go.

“Magnolia _, vad är detta_?” Fröken Rosa held up a picture of a girl with pigtails.

Maggy tilted her head and smiled. “Pippi!” Her cheeks flushed slightly when Froken Rosa shook her head.

“ _Nästan,_ Magnolia.” Fröken Rosa gave her an encouraging smile. “How do you say ‘girl’ _på svenska_?”

“Oh,” said Maggy. She snuck a look at her father, who smiled and winked at her. She took a breath then guessed.

“ _Flicka_?” Maggy puffed out her chest. " _Flicka_!”

“ _Mycket bra_ , Magnolia!” Fröken Rosa smiled. Setting down the card, she clapped her hands. “ _Det är det, barn_! _Tack, barn_!”

“ _Tack_!” “Thank you!” “ _Tack, Fröken Rosa_!” The children called out in reply.

“ _Jag har en överraskning för er alla_!" Fröken Rosa got up from her chair and walked to the table where, hiding under a tea towel, was a cake. “ _Här har vi äppeltårta. Snälla hjälp er själva._ ” She looked up at the parents and smiled. " _Om en av de mycket trevliga papasna er mamasna kunde hjälpa mig att tjäna_?”

* * *

“Did you have fun?”

“Uh huh,” said Maggy. “I haved a good time.”

“You _had_ a good time, love,” replied Magnus.

She frowned at him. “That’s what I said!”

Magnus sat on a bench at the corner of Clark Street and Farragut Avenue, drinking an iced coffee while beside him Maggy stood watching people as they sauntered up and down the street. Shifting from one foot to the other, she wriggled and even danced a little as she inspected families on their way to brunch at Big Jones, couples debating whether or not to buy furniture set out on the sidewalk by the antique shops, and the occasional dog that would stop to bark at the blue Dala horse outside the candy shop. There was a lot to see, so much to remember, even as she slurped apple sauce out of a packet that she clutched in chubby hands. She huffed a little as Magnus cleaned off her face with a wipe

“Daddy?” Maggy turned to face him. Face now clean, he could see how rosy her cheeks were.

“Yes, _duva_?”

“Did you hafta go to playgroup to talk Swedith?”

Magnus shook his head. “No, I didn’t, Maggy.”

“Why not?”

“I grew up in Sweden. I spoke it everyday.”

“Because you’re Swedith,” Maggy said.

This time Magnus nodded. “And so are you.”

“But I don’t talk Swedith all the time.” Her brow furrowed a little. “I talk ‘merican…”

“English,” corrected Magnus gently.

“And Mommy talks in tag—” She frowned. “Tag long?”

“Tagalog.” Magnus said the word slowly. “But just a little. Mommy grew up speaking English.”

“Just like me,” said Maggy.

“Yes, love.”

“But when you was little you speaked Swedith.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And we talked Swedith today.”

“We did, and you did very well.” Magnus sighed in contentment when Maggy crawled into his lap and hugged him.

“So can I have a present?”

Magnus threw back his head and laughed. “Why?”

“Because I talked Swedith good.”

“Okay, my little _flicka_.” Magnus brushed a few curls out of her eyes. He peered across the street at [ the little bookstore ](http://www.womenandchildrenfirst.com/) that was just about to open. “A present for my Maggy.”

* * *

Back at home, Halla had just finished packing them all for their trip to Sweden, where Magnus’s parents would spoil their grandchild while they celebrated _Midsommar_ with the rest of the extended Martinsson clan. When she heard Magnus and Maggy come in through the front door, she greeted them with hugs. The hug she gave Maggy was a little awkward, as the little girl had in her own arms a brown paper package.

“Books, Mommy,” she whispered, hugging the package tighter. “They’re my surpwise from Daddy.”

Halla smiled as she got up, helped to her feet by Magnus. “Daddy, you did good.”

“I _love_ them.” Maggy was wide eyed, taking her father’s hand as he took her upstairs for her nap. She insisted Magnus tuck them in with her after he read a few pages of the first one. When, drowsy from the heat, Maggy drifted off to sleep, Magnus returned downstairs to find Halla arranging the packed suitcases in a row by the fireplace.

“So the books were a surprise then?” Halla now sat on the living room rug, frowning at a basket of clean towels. She was about to begin folding them when Magnus joined her on the floor, sitting and moving the basket out of reach in one smooth movement.

“I ordered them a couple of weeks ago. Sarah at the bookstore found the English language versions. Mamma told me about them. I thought I could read them with Maggy on the plane, along with the original Swedish editions Mamma bought for the two of them to read when we get to the cabin.” He took out his wallet and showed an invoice to Halla, who gasped in delight.

“So you’re telling me there’s a[ series of books about two small children in Sweden who have their own detective agency](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Whodunit_Detective_Agency)?” Halla handed the invoice back. “It’s like they were written just for the two of you.”

“It’s not like she _has_ to be a detective when she grows up,” mused Magnus. “She doesn’t _have_ to follow in my footsteps.”

“But it wouldn’t hurt.” Halla leaned forward, going up on her knees to kiss him. “Very nice, papa.”

“Thanks, love.” When she let her lips linger on his cheek, Magnus turned his face towards her and sighed.

“So what about me?” Halla whispered.

“What about you? Oh!” Magnus let himself be pushed back so he lay on the floor.

“Where’s my present?” Halla straddled him and set her hands on his chest.

Magnus couldn’t help smirking up at her, and now his blue eyes, which were often still and clear and calm, sparkled in anticipation of mischief. “Really? Now?”

Halla nodded. “Yes. Now.”

“Here? On the living room floor?”

“Uh huh.” She kissed his cheek. “I know it’s been a while but we’ve done it here before.”

“What…”

“Come on, you know I love it when you’re at, like, peak Daddy mode,” muttered Halla. Now hovering over him, she nipped at his jaw while Magnus ran his hands up from her hips to hold her at the waist. “You owe me a present, anyway.”

“I _owe_ you sex, then?” Magnus arched an eyebrow.

“We owe it to ourselves, baby.” Halla smirked. “We’re going to be in a little cabin with awfully thin walls for two weeks.” She began to nibble on his earlobe. “All those parents, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews. Cousins. And, of course, our child.”

Magnus closed his eyes when she moved down his body. Halla slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and brought her hands to rest on the skin of his bare chest. He groaned when her hands slid slowly down to his stomach. Then there was the faint metallic sound of his belt buckle being undone, the soft friction of one hand stroking him gently over his boxers. He inhaled quickly at her touch, then exhaled and relaxed even more. “Is this _my_ present, love?”

Halla didn’t reply, focusing on the task at hand. She pushed his trousers down, then his boxers. Magnus opened his eyes, catching Halla fumble at the top of her dress. It was an old one but a favorite of his still, relegated to wearing around the house on slow, sleepy days much like this one. He helped Halla take the straps down, embracing her when she bent forward at the waist to press her body against his. It was there that she lay, nuzzling the spot where his shoulders and his neck met. Just for a moment, and then he was tipping her chin up to him.

He kissed her gently, tasting her when her lips parted for him. When Halla began to laugh, Magnus stopped. “Alright?”

“Yes,” she giggled. “You taste like apple sauce.”

“Maggy didn’t finish…” Magnus was interrupted when Halla kissed him again.

“I know, I know,” she whispered. “You’re just so sweet.”

And then Halla began to rock, pressing her bare sex against him. The fine hair on Magnus’s thighs tickled the backs of her legs, and she shivered when he reached one hand down to touch her. Traced a fine line with his long, nimble fingers. Circling her clit, then stroking her within and without. He teased her, swallowing her gasps with wet, slow kisses that left her breathless. And all the while his cock was hard, insistent and ready as it rubbed against the cleft of Halla’s bottom.

It seemed like a dream to him, the hazy light softening the small details of the room, their home. Her. The same heat in her skin, the prickle whenever he touched her.

Had it really only been five years since they had met? A chance encounter in a convenience store, a desire for something so mundane as a hot dog, and then he saw her and then he touched her and then he loved her.

Now there was a house and a garden and an old car, jobs and friends and books and trips home. Three suitcases, and up in the nursery slept a baby who wasn’t going to be a baby much longer. Life. Family.

_“Magnus.”_

Her voice brought him out of his reverie, and then she was making soft noises. Whimpers and sighs in the spaces between his own gasps of breaths as she took him in hand, moved against him so the head of his cock slid against her clit and then he was inside her.

_“Halla.”_

She was still, and then she rolled her hips. Settling her whole weight on Magnus, Halla felt lazy and complete. Even when he snapped his hips into her, she moaned but did not increase the strength of her own efforts. But his cock, hard and long inside her, felt incredible, and when he moved she felt herself clench her entire body. Hold onto him as long as she could, even as he went faster and harder. She looked down at her husband, eyelids heavy and eyes dark, and fell in love with him. Just as she had been doing every day since the day they had met.

He grabbed her, pulling her closer than close, tighter than tight. Magnus dug in his heels, literally, and if it was inelegant and even a little clumsy, he could be forgiven. This was the way it felt best, in this moment, when she began to come, and he felt her pleasure, her love, everywhere. If his own orgasm felt like a symptom, almost like a consequence of her own satisfaction, it was only because they were so close.

“I love you, Magnus.” She spoke the words into his chest, muffled but he knew.

_“Jag älskar dig, käraste.”_

Halla lifted her head to look at him, tilting it just a little. “It’s really hot down here.”

“I know, love.”

“And I don’t mean from the sex. I think that stupid air conditioner is broken again.” She frowned at the ancient unit that sputtered from its place in the window.

“Good thing your present arrives soon, though it will be while we’re away.” Magnus yawned, and felt around for the laundry basket. “Where are those towels…”

“Present?” Halla’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, are we finally…”

“Central air conditioning, love.” Magnus laughed when she wiggled in obvious delight. “Nat and Kevin are going to supervise the install, as they’re house-sitting anyway.”

“Oh my god…” Halla shook her head. “I got to sleep in, have sleepy pre-anniversary afternoon sex on the floor, and when we get home from seeing your family it’s going to be to a house with actual central air conditioning.”

“And don’t forget the lovely child who went up for her afternoon nap willingly and without complaint,” said Magnus.

“Who will hopefully sleep for a bit longer so her parents can get off this floor, and clean themselves up properly with a nice shower instead of soiling these freshly laundered towels, without interrupting us with demands for snacks and hugs and books and kisses and a puppy?”

Magnus looked up, in the direction of his child’s room, and smiled. “We should only be so lucky, _käraste.”_


End file.
